Duey had a magically imbued mace that weighed at least eighty pounds with a three foot reach. The mace that Duey had by him at all times was called Shadow Rod. Shadow Rod was given to his people as a gift from the gods when they had marched against the forces of evil and pushed them out of the land that was peaceful at that time. It was handed down from generation to generation to each chieftain of the tribe to show their great power.

The chieftain could often take on a half giant or a group of people and live to tell the tale. One swing from Shadow Rod would break any living creatures bones. It would send a man flying through the air after mortally crippling his body. A good blow to a mans head would easily smash his skull open. An ogre would not be that tough of an opponent either. Brandishing Shadow Rod around  his head he could bring it around right into the ogres leg snapping it into pudding.

Nandor was the true name that Duey was born with. Since Duey was a runt the tribe people would always pick on him. The chieftain gave the name Duey to him because he was seen as a disgrace to his whole tribe. At the age of fourteen Duey had snuck out of his camp dragging Shadow Rod behind him. The people of the tribe woke up in a panicked uproar and searched for him all over the plains. gI told you that he would take ith Chieftain Yeshi said to himself as he ordered out search parties. Chieftain Yeshi was the worst possible chieftain that ever came to live on the planet. He was mean, cruel, and probably the most unbearable person to be around. He treated his clan people with disrespect, and often killed barbarians that did not listen to what he had to say. The only reason that Duey was still alive is because Yeshi pitied him. Deep down inside Duey had always hated Yeshi for that.

The only true reason that Duey was alive was because of Tunake. Tunake had saved him from a camp of orcs one night as he stumbled onto their land wearily. He couldnft help but wander to himself what Tunake could be up to at this point in time. If he was with Vaura at this point in time. Duey didnft want to stand face to face to him again, he broke a direct promise to him being where he was. Orcs and goblins were practically over running Tranquility and Duey had vowed on his blood oath to Tunake that he would stay behind and watch over the town.

Duey snapped himself out of his train of thought. I should be focusing at the problem at hand. At least with slowing down the process of the orcs attacking Tranquility he could go to this meeting and be back with the town safely intact. He had no idea what the reason was that Vaura had called a meeting in the first place but, she said that it was of the highest importance to attend this meeting. Seeing that Duey owed his life to Tunake he had a hard time deciding rather to protect the town, or go to this meeting that Tunake and his wife Vaura would both be at.

Over the next ridge was the Orc encampment, Duey had hoped that he could find some way to make the Orc army immobile. He was wearing a full suit of plate mail armor except the helm so, he doubted that any Orc that came near him could lay a scratch on him. He was trudging through the forest at an amazingly slow pace though. The plate mail did not help his speed much, neither did the trees and shrubbery. He reached back and disbanded the chest plate so that he could move at a better pace. Duey doubted that an Orc would even come close enough to swipe at his chest, he could easily knock three to four orcs over with one swing of Shadow Rod. Which was leaning against the tree as he readied himself to keep on marching.

The sun was just setting when he reached the ledge. He looked down into a valley filled with thousands of tents. He did not expect the Orc army to be this large. This was a big problem and he did not know how to handle it. Coming to a conclusion of what he could do, he looked around for any boulders along the edge of the cliff. If he was to push a boulder hard enough to send it rolling off the edge it would roll through the Orc encampment crushing countless orcs. Duey just about patted himself on the back for this idea. He could take out a few hundred orcs and get to the meeting no more than a day late. At least he would be showing up to find out what was going on.

As he pushed the rock off the ledge, that he found sitting twenty feet away from where he was standing, he had a thick smile on his face. I really do come up with some good ideas he thought to himself. The rock went shooting down the face of the cliff and he ran to the next boulder along the ledge. He readied himself and pushed the boulder off with a slight strain and it went tumbling down into the camp. By this time the first boulder was already at the first tent. He could hear the screams and wails of orcs rise above the crushing of their bones. The sound was horrible to anyone who heard it. To  Duey the sound of an orcs wail was very pleasurable. The orcs have put him through a lot in his life, hunting him down from day to day when he was younger. He could not help but take satisfaction out of the pain he was inflicting on so many orcs at this point in time. He took so much time to marvel at what he had done that he was not paying attention to what was going on around him.

The hairs on the back of Dueys neck stood up as he heard words of a different language creep across his ears. He could recognize the words that was now echoing through his mind, they were words of magick. Bringing Shadow Rod up from the ground he hurled his body around full force to bring the mace crashing into the side of a Orc shamans head leaving its foul corpse upon the ground. He looked forward to find three Orc warriors standing in front of him battle ready. Duey braced himself and started to jog forward brandishing Shadow Rod above his head. When the orcs got in range he pulled his arm through a swing and took all three orcs out with one blow.

Breathing heavily Duey tried to make his escape back into the forest. The armor was to heavy to go about swinging his Shadow Rod to much. If he made it into the forest he could hide out like he had always done from the orcs. He knew now that they were aware of his position, at least he was sure of them knowing when he had pushed the boulders down the face of the mountain.

Turning to find three Orc warriors and a Orc shaman behind you is not a very reassuring thing when a warrior is to refer to himself as adept in the skill of fighting. He knew that he would not get far in his armor but, he did not have the time to take it off. Horns sounded behind him as an army of outraged orcs made their way up the cliffs thinking that they were under attack by some foe.

Leaves and twigs crunched behind him as an enemy got closer. Duey had nothing he could do about this but stand and fight. A Orc warrior ran toward him with such speed he practically choked on the smell of the Orcs odor. With his teeth clenched the Orc brought down his blade hoping to deal a fatal wound to Duey as he was still turning around. Stumbling backward Duey dodged the fatal blow as the sword scathed across his rib cage. Duey had been running with Shadow Rod resting on his shoulder and as the blade ran across his side he brought it down on top of the orcs head with all of his might. The Orc was practically smashed into the ground with the force at which Duey brought down his mace.

Thinking again about the weight of his armor, he began to strip it off trying to not think about the pain that he was in. He could still hear the horns of the orcs blow in the distance but he did not see any sign of danger running toward him yet. He damned the armor and had no idea why he wore it. The only piece of clothing that he wore under the armor was a loin cloth. That was the true nature for him, a loin cloth. You felt so free in one, and you were not restrained to the slow mobility and heavy weight that armor wreaked on your un expecting body.

After Duey had done away with the armor he looked up to find himself in another problem. He had no idea where he was. With the shuffle between the Orc and cut he seemed to find himself disorientated. This was not good for him, he could hear the horns in every direction around him. After hesitating a few minutes he picked himself up and began to walk in a random direction.      Sounding another horn Duey took the chance of looking behind him. There was a group of about ten orcs behind him. He was spotted for sure, he might as well give up and live the last of his life fighting. Dieing here was something that he had not planned to do though, and wasting a life that had once been saved and had vowed a blood oath was not his decision. The only thing that Duey could do was to keep on running.

Blowing the horns for the third time the Orc captain was pleased with himself. Finding this creature was not as hard to track down as he thought it would be. In a few swift seconds his own Orc platoon would run down this animal like he was finishing off his breakfast meal. He would surly get a promotion, and a big payoff of gold for bringing in his head. “The head is mine.” rang the Orc captains voice over all of the commotion.

Plant after plant was trampled under each of the orcs feet. Tree limb after tree limb was cut down as this horde of reeking beasts paved a path through the forest to catch their prey. Low moaning rose up from the ground all around the orcs and Duey. The moaning got louder and louder until they blotted out the ringing Orc war cries as they chased after Duey. In seconds the sound was so unbearable that the orcs fell to their knees holding their ears. It almost sounded as if the forest was yelling at them. Duey covered his ears clenching his teeth in agony as he forced his way forward determined not to give way to his bleeding side or the army of orcs behind him.

Hair raised on the back of his neck again as he heard screams echo in the forest over the loud wailing. He did not dare look back, the screams of death were so horrible that they were definitely a lot worse than the screams he had heard when the orcs had been crushed to death. Whatever was going on behind him he had no plan on taking a part of it. Duey kept his head down and ran as fast as he could and was very frustrated by the amount of pain that he was in. His rib cage hurt, and he felt like he had been running for at least five miles, he was having trouble getting air and felt that something was closing in around him so that he could not breath. Shadow Rod was beginning to feel really heavy on his shoulder and, he felt as if he would rather drag it on the ground than carry it.

As he felt that he finally reached safety and the sounds behind him were dieing down he tripped over a vine. Falling face first in a pile of mud and hitting his wound against a rock. He felt as if he had broken his ribs. Duey was not happy at this point, and he felt as if he could not get up. The immense pain he was going through was horrible. He had hoped that nothing in his body was broken so he could carry on and get to his destination.Although he was not quite sure where he was at. The only thing that he had in mind was to get up and keep walking the direction he was heading because he would soon get his bearings strait. Putting his hands palm down he remembered that the Shadow Rod was not in his hands. He tried lifting himself up but he practically fell face first in the mud again. After a few seconds rest he tried again with all of his strength and managed to barley sit himself upright. He leaned his back against the tree and looked around to find Shadow Rod but could not see it anywhere in site. Panic went through his mind as he thought that he had lost the one true relic past down from generation to generation in his people heritage.

Pulling himself up in haste to find his mace he almost doubled over in pain. The pain in his side was now unbearable and he definitely needed to see a Cleric. At the thought of breaking a vow to one of his only true friends and losing themost important thing in his life he had to stop for a second and catch up with himself. How could Shadow Rod disappear so easily? this weapon was huge, it weighed well over eighty pounds, it was at least three feet long, and it was no where in his site.

Feeling the ground shake below him Duey was not ready for what was going to happen next. A huge hand reached down from above him and wrapped its hand around his whole body. It felt as if every bone in his body was about to break, he let out a yell of pain and went limp in the hand. The great hand released a bit of pressure so that Duey could now breathe again. Duey was scared and not sure what was going to happen. A tree standing tall next to him had uprooted itself and was now carrying him through the forest above the other trees. It looked down sternly at him with eyes as big as his head.

The tree talked really slowly, it was as if the tree had a very small brain. “What were you doing harming my forest little one? I spend my time here day through day keeping peace throughout this forest and orcs ravage it daily. What am I to do when people like you run freely destroying and pillaging every thing you can put your greedy hands on?” The trees voice was hoarse and echoed down at him as he kept moving through the forest.

Duey readied himself to speak not quit sure how the tree was going to react. gI was trying to disperse the Orc army and lead them astray.h    “Dispersing?” The tree said in anger. “Is an entire Orc platoon running through my fores,t stomping through my forest, and cutting down every tree limb in site the definition of dispersing to you little one?”

He was not quite sure what to say. If he said the wrong thing he could face certain death a the hands of this moving tree. It was so surprising that there was such a creature around the world. Never once while he was hiding away in the forest did he come across anything like this. To his surprise this walking tree was very intelligent, even though it seemed slow witted and talked really slow. He had no idea where a brain would fit inside of this creature though.

Taking a deep breath Duey let out what was on his mind. “I’m not quite sure how to address you but, the orcs have been invading my home for some time now. I was only here to try and deal a crushing blow to them so that my people would be safe in my absence.” Duey took another deep breath and looked up to see that this did not please the tree at all so he continued to talk very swiftly. “‘fm sorry that I ran them through the forest but, they had caught me unexpectedly and wounded me. The forest was the only place I could turn to shelter so I turned to it hoping that it would kindly help me as it has through the many years I have lived.”

The tree was outraged and began a slow sentence again that Duey knew would take forever. “The forest, help you? A barbarian? You are nothing more than a savage. You and the orcs think just alike and you brought this on one another! I can not believe that you say the forest should be there to protect you! You fight your own battles, or die trying!” The tree raised his voice with the last few words that he spoke and shifted directions as he walked.

Duey thought that it would be smart to keep his mouth shut now. He was not much for talking, and he hated when he was forced to talk. Talking was for people who needed reassurance and help, Duey thought to himself. In Dueys mind he needed neither help, or reassurance about anything.     The view was tremendous at the height he was at. He tried to look around and found that they were heading strait for the Orc encampment. Not knowing what the tree had in mind he tried looking around to see if there was any way that he could get loose from his restraints. He caught a glimpse of black metal behind him and squinted his eyes to look closely.

The Shadow rod was dangling from one of the trees limbs high above him. He was relieved to find that he did not loose it but, he feared that he would never retrieve his weapon again. He was surprised to find himself speaking to the tree again. “Could I have my weapon back tree?”

He almost hit himself for saying this. Duey found himself in unbelievable pain with a concussion on top of things, and he could not keep a strait head. He half expected the tree to squish him like a bug. Amazingly enough the tree grinned at him and kept walking.

“Soon enough you will need your weapon little one.” The tree said as it came nearer and nearer to it’s destination. Duey looked out over the trees to find where he was going. They were heading strait for the Orc camp. He swore under his breathe as he bet the tree would leave him there to fight to his death.

After a few minutes of walking an no ideas on Dueys behalf, he was finally set on the ground outside the Orc encampment.  The Orc horns were blowing and they were rallying to send out hunting parties to him. The tree dropped the weapon and turned itfs back to Duey and walked away whispering under it’s breath “Good luck little one.”

If it was not for the mile distance in the valley between him and the Orc encampment, Duey would have surely been dead by now. He could see the Orcs mounting their wolves in the distance though. They would ride their hideous wolves out to kill him. One was in more danger of being chewed up and going through the wolves digestive track rather than being cut down by an Orc.

The wolves were the size of horses, and at times when he had seen these wolves he swore that the teeth were longer than his fingers. Duey felt excruciating pain in his side and fell to one knee. He had been thinking so much for the past few moments that he had not noticed how much pain he was really in.

There was nothing that Duey could do but wait until death rode down upon him. The orcs were getting closer and closer, he bet that the Orc shamans spells would soon be hitting him one after another if they even bothered to ride out. He may even get a body full of arrows before the orcs even were in swiping distance of him.

Duey picked up Shadow Rod to make his last defiant stand against the Orc horde. He raised Shadow Rod above his head with both arms and let out a battle cry only to fall down to both knees instead of one. The orcs would soon be to him and he knew that it would be a fast ending. He held his mace forward defiantly and waited for the approaching enemy standing fast to his cause. That day he was proud for the accomplishments that he had made by causing such damage to his most hated enemy. He may not of immobalized them but, he did slow them down by causing them hundreds of casualties.

A horn blew as the orcs rode closer, and the smell of the orcs carried through the wind as they road faster. Each and every one of the orcs were in berserk mode, they wanted blood. They had not tasted human blood for almost a week, and were ready to rip this barbarian from limb to limb. The sweet taste of his bones grinding beneath their teeth drove them forward faster. The orcs let out a gruesome shout of challenge and let the arrows fly toward him.

Duey looked up in the air at the arrows flying toward him wishing he had some form of protection now. He had to only hope that no arrow hit him but, Duey was not that lucky. An arrow came whizzing down and hit Duey in his right shoulder. It felt as if the arrow had penetrated all the way through his shoulder and the pain was unbearable compared to the slice along his rib cage. If that wasnft bad enough another arrow came down digging itself into his left leg.

Letting himself fall, Duey knew that this was the end of his adventure. Before Duey had even hit the ground he felt as if he was flying through the air. He wondered if this is what death is like but, he still felt the pain throughout his body so he knew he was still alive. He painfully looked up to find a griffon carrying him through the air.

Half lion, half eagle, griffons are ferocious carnivores that prey upon horses and other animals. The hunger for livestock often brought them in direct contact with humans. Griffons were not seen around much since they were near exstinction from getting hunted down. They are very beautiful, and Duey could not believe that he was looking up at one right now.

What luck Duey had, first he was about to be slain by a group of orcs. Then he is going to be carried off to a griffons nest to be food to quench its newborns appetites. The pain was so unbearable that Duey could not think strait anymore and his thought process halted completely.     Duey was falling in and out of consciousness and knew that he did not have long left to live. He fought against the pain but in the end he was not victorious. Shadow Rod slowly slipped out of his hand and he fell into a deep darkness that he was sure he would not return from

The brisk cool air hit her skin as she felt the shiver go through her body when first exposed to the night air. The air swirled around her tossing her hair every direction possible. Her white gown was practically see through and it was flowing behind her also. She did not care though, she felt peaceful and that is all that mattered. For she had not felt this peaceful in a long time, waiting for her love to come rescue her.

Her love was late, but she was not worried. She had seen many years pass throughout her life. A year could almost be considered a month to the elves, they had such long lives. Her skin was delicately drawn on her face and body. She had a strong characteristic face finely woven to the bones of her body. Her facial features shot out at you, yet she was as delicate as a lady. Her body was small, lithe, and beautiful as she stood at six foot four. Yet her skin is very pallid, the moons light seemed to circle around her.

The thing that caught people the most about this young elfs features was her eyes. Her eyes were entrancing, delicate, and loving. Races around the world could often find themselves speechless as they gazed into her eyes. How could somebody expect to explain something so beautiful?

The color of her eyes was amber. This amber color was not just a regular amber of course. People would often emphasize the word deep when trying to explain her eyes. When you looked into her eyes, you felt as if you were walking through a beautiful forest filled with redwood. The beauty of this forest was even more beautiful than the elven forests and gardens.

No man or beast would dare touch her. They knew the consequences of crossing her boundaries and trust. She was very well protected in all directions of the earth you could say. The thought of  desecrating this living beauty would not come to most. There were two main reasons why she was distrusted and above all, feared.

The dark secret that most people stumbled across very fast was that, she is a mage. A mage of the black robes in fact. Mages are always misunderstood and feared. Her friends and companions respected her though, she was very adept at casting and working with magick. The spell components were always by her side when she was awake. Sometimes she even had them next to her while she slept since the world was very dangerous. She would never let her guard down to any person, she had gone through many experiences and lost many companions. You often smelt lilies when you were around her, some of her favorite spells worked with the different components of lilies.

She often traveled places by foot rather than using magick to get her around the continent. There are countless times in a persons life when you must defend yourself, and so she did when she was younger. Under her robes she carried a beautifully made dagger that was smithed by dwarves. They had used their finest metal and used the most beautiful elven gems to make this dagger.

Most of the creatures around the world did not hear much about her dagger though. Stories of her husbands sword was spread throughout the lands. He was a very courageous knight, and held all of his opponents in honorable reverence. He followed the neutral path rather than dark.

Her knights sword was a long sword. So beautifully made by the dwarves as a gift when they had both visited the dwarven nations throughout the land. There was something more to his sword though. A single rose ran from the hilt of his sword to the end of his blade. The rose was not made by the dwarves, the rose was made by the gods. When the sword was lay to cool, it began to glow with a fluorescent light. After a few seconds the sword was left with the image of a rose.

From his knowledge the sword had no true magical properties. It was odd that the sword felt light as a feather when he held it though. The sword weighed fifty pounds or more to anyone who would try to wield it but, to him it was like swinging around a four foot long dagger. It was very well balanced, and you could easily tell that the weight was still there with the ease he could lop off a goblins head.

A stranger hidden in a dark hooded cloak rode up the winding road. He looked up at this elf, he was reminded of a creature that he had heard a lot about in human religion. She looked as if she was an angel, but he knew it was not possible since he had never heard of any sort of elf being an angel in his life. He especially knew that a dark elf would not be an angel. In his mind she was to beautiful to be an angel anyways.

He dismounted his horse slowly and took his time to walk up to her. Standing at six foot he carried a long sword on his back around the length of four feet long. It was very odd to see a ranger wear a sword as big as this. Most would think that he would fall over but he didn’t. The rangers cloak was a wavering green color, it seemed to shift to each color of grass he stepped upon. It was no ordinary cloak, it was imbued with magical powers from the white robed elves. You could see peaces of dark green leather armor beneath his green cloak. He could hide behind any bush or shrub and would be hard to spot to any unintelligent creature, or a human.

Pulling his hood back slowly he smiled up at her. His hair was dark, his complexion dark also from being outside so often. He had the built body of a ranger which was noticeable with the way he carried himself. He carried a bow slung over his shoulder but, it was the color of the robe. You could not see it unless you were to have your eye trained upon it for some time.

After having his eyes fixed on her for some time he picked up his walking pace. He walked up to her and embraced the elven female in his arms and kissed her gently upon her cheek.

“I missed you my dear Vauralonthalasa” He said with a slight smile as her elven name creeped slowly across his lips.

The sentence “I missed you too my dear Tunake” slowly and gently rang in his ears.

They had no time for reunions though. Many things had been happening throughout the last few months to where they had to come together again. Tunake knew that their time together may not be a happy one and he frowned at the thought. He had a feeling their time together would be very perilous and that they may often face certain death time and again. He could see in her eyes that she thought along the same lines as him. Deep inside he wept for her and wished that they would not have had to meet together under these circumstances. He missed her a lot while he was away defending his home town against invading orc and goblin troops. He had seen enough blood shed in his years to match that of a dark elf outcast.

The embrace was short lived and they soon walked down the hill in the opposite direction with hands clasped together and with the trained horse following slowly behind. They felt uneasy in one another’s company since it had been so long. Vaura thought to herself how long it had been since she had last seen Tunake. It seems as if it’s been around three years she thought to herself. Really it had only been around nine months, the elves had no reason to keep time, especially a dark elf.

Tunake had been in his home town fighting off the hordes of goblins and orcs so that his friends and family would not be over run. He had seen enough blood in his life to think that it was almost an everyday thing. After all of the fighting Tunake was sad to know that they had to meet under these conditions.

He looked over at her knowing that this silence could not be long lived. “When I rode by cover of night I saw fires along the mountains. I think the ogres are moving again and, that could be bad for the elven populace on the other side.” His smile faded to a frown “Time and time again, you tell me that they can fight their own battles. I just worry some times that is all, you have not seen your family in many years.”     “You know very well that the elven citizens can take care of themselves Tunake.” She laughed at the thought of Tunake being so caring. It’s funny how you care so much for people that you do not know. As well as people who would never reach their neck out to help you if you were in need.

This was a very true statement. He knew that the elves would never help the humans if they needed it. The elves had been shut off from the world for many years and, it would continue on through the rest of time most likely. He was so deep in thought about this that he forgot to listen to his wife rather than the voice inside his head.

“What were you saying?”      Vaura looked over at him with a scolding look. “Why must the human mind always wander? I swear, if you did not have me you would not get anywhere.” She smiled at him playfully. I was saying, I love you because you are the caring person that you are.

Tunake grinned at her and put his arm around her shoulder. “So where are we going my love?”

“We are going to my house. You have some old friends at my house that I think you will be very interested to see.”

Tunake looked over at Vaura and knew exactly what she had in mind. He found himself looking at the side of her face though. She walked steadily, looking forward not paying any attention to him because she was deep in thought about something. Probably going over spell components and different spells, triple checking if she had forgotten something.

After about 10 minutes of walking they came to the forests edge, he had not quit been here in a long time. The last time he saw Vaura was when she visited him in his home town, Tranquility. Which ironically the town was the complete opposite of the meaning of the name.

It had been around 4 years since he had seen her home. He was looking forward to when they would stumble across it, as a man of the woods he was very interested in the garden work of the elves. Every flower, and every tree was as delicate as Vaura. Every line, every crinkle, every fold, and every thorn of the flowers reminded him of her beauty.

After five minutes of walking they came across her house. Her house was very hard to explain, and not many people had seen much of this. She had made her house by using magick, and the elven love for nature. Five trees were lined up next to one another and magically connected into one. It looked as if a large tree stood in the middle of the forest when truthfully this was her house. The inside of the tree was hollow, clean. The walls inside the tree was hollowed out to make the inside of a castle from what Tunake had remembered. With a large wooden staircase, the large wooden hand rails along the upper levels looking down into the entry room. Amazingly enough there were built in windows, where the wood was carved out so that air could circulate through the whole house. The tables were actually connected to the ground, magicked from top to bottom.

Vaura paused as Tunake looked up at her house. She knew that he would be deep in thought about it for a few minutes so she let him think. After he was done looking up through the dense foliage of the trees he continued forward.

He heard the distant sound of laughter inside the house and knew he would soon see all of his old friends. He looked back at Vaura and smiled feeling that at least out of all the hard times ahead, they would not have to face them alone.

“What?”

“It’s your turn.”

“Oh. What do I do again?”

“Roll the dice. The same as the past 8 turns.”

“OK.”

Kyle rolled the oddly shaped dice. He had no idea why he’d accepted the invite to this eccentric meet-up, but here he sat in a poorly lit basement, slugging down high alcohol beer in hopes his drunken stupor would lead to some fun.

“Are you kidding me? This guy has to be the luckiest player I’ve ever seen.”

Apparently Kyle’s roll was good. He had no idea what was going on. The leader of the group, who was sitting behind a piece of elaborately decorated cardboard, began to speak.

“A half-giant approaches from the north. He smells like filth and goats. Seeing you on his territory sends him into a rage!”

“Uh oh.”

Kyle didn’t know if this was bad or good. At least half-giant didn’t sound as drastic as full giant.

“I have a pet or something right? A bear?”

“Yes, a bear.”

“I want my bear to fiercely maul the half-giant.” Kyle took a large swig of his IPA. It was hoppy enough to remind him of a cool summer night, far away from small, stuffy subterranean hovels.

“Your bear can’t just fight it alone. It’s a half-giant for christ sake. You have to help!”

“Why? It’s a bear. I think he knows what he’s doing.”

Kyle poured more delicious beer down his throat. It was a shame; a brew this fine should be savored. The gaze of the players around him were piercing, burning, seethingly angry. He had tread on sacred ground. He had defiled their haven. To make matters worse, he was too drunk to drive home at this point.

“OK, then I shoot the half-giant with my bow. Can I do that?”

The Dungeon Master looked at him and sighed.

“Roll.”

The dice fell clumsily on the foldable card table.

“No way! He has to be cheating.”

“Critical hit!”

Two of the party members cheered. Another scowled, checking the character sheet to make sure Kyle wasn’t cheating. Kyle decided he was going to sleep in his car, and chugged the remainder of his current beer.

The DM broke character and told the group to take a break. The largest member, a halfling illusionist of some note, labored to rise from his chair, grunting as he waddled over to the fridge for another Pepsi Max. The DM asked Kyle to step into the next room.

“Have you played before? We invited you here for a beginners game, but you’re ruining it for everyone else. It seems pretty clear you’ve played the Ranger class before.”

The pock-marked face was fuzzy, like Kyle was speaking to him through a waterfall. He felt dizzy, but happy.

“This is my first time. I’m just doing what you tell me to. Shit, I don’t even know what a Ranger is.”

Kyle felt a burp slowly creeping from his stomach, up his throat. There was a chance he could throw up on this kid.

“I only picked it because it had the same name as my beer.”

9 out of 10.

+3 against thirst (and ogres)

For those new to the Dark Sun party, half-giants are (as you might expect) similar to half-elves; human/giant hybrids, though half-giants are the result of sorcerous experimentation rather than interbreeding. As an aside? I really want to create a bard who sings a soul song called Giant Fever, but that’s completely irrelevant to the topic at hand.

An Athasian half-giant, towering over a human or elf.

So, the original Dark Sun half-giant? Was, perhaps unsurprisingly, pretty big: 10 to 12 feet tall, weighing approximately 1,600 pounds. This enormous stature made them powerful, granting a +4 to Strength and a +2 to Constitution – of course, their gigantic heritage also gave them walnut-sized brains, resulting in half-giants suffering a -2 to Intelligence, a -2 to Wisdom, and a -2 to Charisma. They also received double hit points at every level (so while most fighters got 1-10 hit points for each level they gained, half-giant fighters got 2-20 each level).

To balance out these incredible benefits? Half-giants suffered the aforementioned penalties to Intelligence, Wisdom and Charisma. All half-giant equipment (weapons, armor, clothing, etc.) cost double since they were so much bigger. They were so heavy they couldn’t really ride many animals, or ride in wagons. But the primary balancing mechanic was their shifting alignment – effectively, there was a daily chance a half-giant would wake up evil instead of good, and kill the rest of the party. Seriously.

So, in a nutshell, half-giants were stupid piles of muscle, that existed for a single purpose – to kill shit. This was supposed to be balanced by the fact that the other players might wind up being the shit that got killed.

So, yeah, the half-giant was broken. Seriously fucking broken. Which was fine since (as we’ve already discussed) 2nd Edition, and Dark Sun in particular, weren’t really worried about game balance – broken shit was fine. However, that doesn’t really fly in 4th Edition, meaning the half-giant isn’t the same. Haters, start your engines (of hate!).

A pair of goliaths, the new face of the half-giant for DS4e.

In my last races post, I mentioned that I wasn’t going to be talking about the PHB2/PHB3 races for now, with one exception. That exception is the Goliath – the new face of the Athasian half-giant. Introduced in the PHB2, fitting them into that “big, strong, smash” niche isn’t exactly a stretch:

Tribal nomads of the mountains, strong as the rock and proud as the peak.

…

Play a goliath if you want …

• to be tougher and stronger than nearly anyone.
• to master the rugged mountain slopes.
• to be a member of a race that favors the barbarian, fighter and warden classes.

Doesn’t exactly sound that far off the mark, does it? Of course, there’s no such thing as a perfect conversation and this is no different. I don’t hate the goliath as a half-giant, but I do have mixed feelings about it – though those mixed feelings are tempered by the fact that I can’t imagine a better way to incorporate the half-giant into 4e. So let’s take a look at the goliath.

Goliaths get a +2 to Strength and a +2 to Constitution, which certainly scratches the right itch. They get to choose between dwarven or giant as a bonus language, which I’d switch to just giving them giant for obvious reasons. They get a bonus to Athletics and Nature checks, a bonus to their Will defense, get to roll twice and keep the better result for all Athletics checks, and have an encounter power than grants them resist 5 (more at higher levels) to all sources of damage for one full turn. All in all, they have the right “Hulk SMASH!!!!” feel, in my opinion. So why the mixed feelings?

They’re Medium-size creatures – just like humans, dwarves, elves and most player races. They range in height from 7’2″ to 7’8″, and weigh between 280 and 340 pounds. It’s worth noting that this is taller than all other player races, and heavier than all but the minotaur (which weighs a little more). So you know, they’re big, but not giant – and half-giants were giant compared to the other races (implying that propert giants were really big – and they were).

Now I get why the half-giant is medium-size. A large creature uses larger weapons – and larger weapons dish out more damage. An ordinary (medium-size) longsword deals 1d8 points of damage; a large longsword deals 1d10 points of damage. Large creatures also have “reach” – meaning they threaten and attack all squares within two spaces of them. Medium-size creatures only threaten one square – meaning a large half-giant can smash people in melee combat (which they’re good at) who can’t attack her back. Further, anyone approaching a large half-giant so they could make a melee attack against her will trigger an opportunity attack against himself – an opportunity attack made with that bigass weapon that deals more damage. Those three factors combined, mean a size-large player race probably can’t be balanced under any circumstances – at least not without introducing “level adjustment” style rules.

So, given those factors I’m not angry or otherwise upset by this change in the half-giant. At the same time, I really liked the idea that half-giants were very distinctly larger than humans or the other races. I see two different ways to handle this issue. The first is to just get over it, and move on. Half-giants were part of Dark Sun, but Dark Sun wasn’t about half-giants. The second option is through “rule zero”-style DM Fiat. Off the top of my head? Half-giants can procreate with one another, or with other giants. Half-giant/giant pairings yield other, large-size half-giants. Half-giant/half-giant pairings tend to thin out the giant blood – yielding “giant-blooded” i.e. goliaths.

I’m not married to it, but it’s just a thought. At least it allows me to use big half-giants as monsters without having a logical fallacy. So, there’s that.

Not sure if I’ll get a chance to do another one of these from the road or not. Depends on how tomorrow goes. But next time the haters will once again get to rev their engines of fury and rage, because I’ll be discussing another broken (were any of the Dark Sun-specific races not broken?) race – the thri-kreen.